


Megatron and Rodimus Do The Lost Light

by ladydragon76



Series: Sexy Shenanigans [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: KINK: BDSM, KINK: D/s, KINK: bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Descriptive title is very descriptive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rodimus Suggests Megatron and He Do the Lost Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larbestaaargh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larbestaaargh/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** Sexy Shenanigans  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Megatron, Rodimus, Perceptor, Brainstorm, First Aid, Rung, Drift, Minimus Ambus, Chromedome, Rewind, Tailgate, Cyclonus in various configurations.  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky, Crack, PWP, Transformers Tetris  
>  **Notes:** The ever epic [Larrydraws](http://larrydraws.tumblr.com/) flung bunnehs at my head. How could I resist? Again, don’t expect much from this fic. It’s straight up ‘Plot? What Plot?’ FYI, that means porn. Just endless porn. Enjoy! ^_^

“Hey ya, Megs!”

“No,” Megatron said without looking up from the report he was proofreading.

There was a stack of datapads on the front edge of Megatron’s desk, full of his finished reports and work, and they were pushed to the side to make room for Rodimus. Though for once, the co-captain made sure they didn’t topple. He perched one hip on the edge and leaned toward Megatron on his hand. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“I’m fairly sure it doesn’t matter because there is no way you are done with your work yet.” Megatron glanced up. “I’m not going to do it for you. I’m not going to cover for you if Magnus comes looking for you or your work. I’m not-”

Rodimus lifted his free hand and cut Megatron off. “I’m not here for any of that. It’s good deed time.”

One optic ridge arched. “Good deed time,” Megatron repeated flatly. Rodimus beamed a full-watt smile at him, and he realized there was going to be no peace until he at least listened to the brat. With a heavy sigh and dreading the answer, Megatron asked, “What good deed?”

“That’s the spirit!” Rodimus chirped, grinning even wider. “Our crew needs us, Megs!”

“Could you - _please_ \- stop mangling my name?” Megatron asked, but Rodimus rolled on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“You see, we’ve got two mechs- No, more than that, but we definitely have two that seriously need our help, so I think it’s time for another round of Captain Love.”

Megatron lifted his face only far enough from his hand -which he did not recall covering his face with- to peek through his fingers at the brightly colored menace sitting on his desk. “Captain Love?” He groaned. Primus save him.

“Yeah, ya know, where we ‘face the crew for the good of all.”

“If it’s only two mechs, then why would we interface with the entire crew again?” Megatron asked, his hands dropping back to the surface of his desk. “And if it’s only two, why aren’t you handling them yourself?”

Rodimus winked and made a blaster shape with his hand, pointing right at Megatron. “See! I knew you got me. But this is bigger than just letting a couple mechs ride the old hot rod. Heh. Get it?”

Megatron did, and he forcibly kept his hands on his desk before he ended up denting his own face. A possibility that became more and more likely the longer Rodimus went on.

“Anyway. My plan requires both of us, and like I said, it’s not just the two of them we’re helping. There’s a few others aboard that could use a little helping hand to see how good they’d be together. But if I tried it alone, it wouldn’t work, or they would figure it out…” Rodimus trailed off with a flap of his hand. “So yeah?”

Megatron cycled his vents and tried to parse the rambling into a coherent concept. “You want the both of us to interface the entire crew for the sake of playing matchmaker between fully mature mechs that have not asked for your help, might not welcome your ‘help’,” he made air quotes around the word, “so they won’t divine your intentions, but you get the accolades afterward assuming these two individuals do get together?”

“Exactly,” Rodimus said with his ever-bright smile. “Except the bit about accolades. I don’t need that. Seeing true love shine is all the reward I want.” Megatron thought he was close to retching there for an instant, but the smile finally dropped -however briefly- to a slight frown. “Better than watching the fraggers moon after each other.”

Megatron bit his tongue in an effort to snuff a grin of his own at that. He cycled his vents, picked his report back up, and said, “All right.”

Rodimus _chirped_ as he hopped off Megatron’s desk. “Yeah?!”

“Yes,” Megatron said. “We can announce it tonight in Swerve’s-”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Rodimus’ arms shot into the air as he jumped up and down.

“- _if_ you finish your work by the end of the shift,” Megatron said and gave his co-captain a smirk. “But only if. In fact, I need to finish mine as well, so get out and let me focus.”

Bright blue optics narrowed, but Rodimus wore that damnable smile of his again. “Be ready. I’ll be back for you as soon as the shift’s over.”

“The work has to be done _properly_!” Megatron called after Rodimus. He got a wave in return. Oh well. That, Megatron figured, was his good deed for the day, and Magnus might actually say thank you if Rodimus followed through. He returned his attention to the report, shoving away memories from his own round of- No, he was not calling it that.

Reports. Yes. Work.

Megatron would deny any sense of anticipation to his death.


	2. Megatron & Rodimus Do Perceptor & Brainstorm

Megatron picked up Brainstorm at his lab at the appointed time. As planned and with Rodimus’ words echoing though his mind.

_”Ok, so don’t let him convince you to frag him there in the lab again,” Rodimus said, vibrating in excitement. “I’ll get Percy back to my quarters, and if Brainstorm or anyone else questions it, just tell them that since we’re doing it together this time, this is easier. My quarters are prepped. Yadda, yadda~ Got it?”_

_“Brainstorm is already aware that we’re to get together in your quarters,” Megatron replied. “Why would he question it at this point?”_

_“ **If** he questions it!” Rodimus stopped and grasped Megatron’s wrist, bright blue optics ever so wide and emphatic. “This is **important** , Megs.”_

_Megatron narrowed his optics, but the pleading expression never changed. “Fine,” he said so they could get moving. He didn’t know what Rodimus was so concerned about. The precedent was already set. They had announced it at Swerve’s bar, and then dragged Ultra Magnus off because the mech looked ready to combust after being given all Rodimus’ backlogged work -correctly done- and Megatron’s as well._

“Sure you don’t want to bend me over the table?” Brainstorm asked as Megatron waited by the door for him.

Megatron promised himself then and there not to tell Rodimus he had been right. “As pleasant as that was last time, Rodimus would whine.” He gestured out the door, and Brainstorm slipped past him. “He has energon and treats.”

Brainstorm chuckled as he locked the lab. “How’d he convince you to do a round two?”

“My experiences last time did more convincing than Rodimus’ cajoling,” Megatron replied as they walked toward the lift. “Don’t tell him that though. He has a fragile ego.”

“Funny. You protecting Rodimus’ ego.” Brainstorm chuckled as he poked the lift’s call button.

Megatron shrugged and said nothing, but he really didn’t need to. Brainstorm was always eager to talk about his latest work, and when no further response came, he babbled on about the ‘perfectly safe, non-temporal rift creating’ device he had been fiddling with when Megatron arrived. Megatron liked to think himself intelligent, but he only understood the vaguest concept from all the words that tumbled free of Brainstorm’s mouth. He was glad to reach Rodimus’ quarters for the break it gave his processors and pinged his co-captain’s comms while pressing the door chime.

// _Yes!_ // Rodimus crowed, and the door slid open the next instant.

Yellow hands shot out, grabbed Brainstorm, and yanked him into the room.

Megatron entered and made sure to close the door, though he didn’t lock it. Rodimus was too exuberant to bother with being sure both of the scientists were honestly interested, but Megatron would be certain they knew they could leave if they wished.

Perceptor stood from the sofa slowly, placing his glass of energon on the conversation table. He looked stunned, Megatron thought, especially as Rodimus maneuvered Brainstorm around with hands on the back of the blue mech’s shoulders. Brainstorm was shoved forward, his hands up and a squeak of feedback escaping his vocalizer as he quickly locked it down against whatever he had been about to say.

“What is-?” Perceptor began, but Rodimus rolled right over him.

“A setup!” Rodimus proclaimed. “You two crazy kids keep dancing around each other, and frankly, it’s making us all a little sick.”

“Not me,” Megatron put in, but was summarily ignored by all.

Perceptor sputtered in shock while Brainstorm was frozen in place and leaning back against Rodimus’ hands. He was clearly still reeling. Rodimus beamed away, his field pulsing happiness and pride and a rather chirpy lust. Megatron shook his helm and walked over to Perceptor. They weren’t what he’d call ‘friendly’, but the mech had seemed less inclined to murder him after the whole time travel debacle.

Laying a hand on the mech’s shoulder, Megatron said softly, “You do not have to do this. Don’t let Rodimus’ insane enthusiasm for matchmaking push you into something you are uncomfortable with.” He met Brainstorm’s gaze. “Either of you.”

“Killjoy,” Rodimus said, his lower lip poking out into a pout. His field never wavered, however, and neither Perceptor nor Brainstorm moved to leave.

Megatron waited, then decided silence wasn’t good enough for him, especially as Rodimus’ hands moved in and began petting Brainstorm’s chest and abdominal plating. “Yes or no, Perceptor? I need the word.”

Perceptor’s jaw worked, his field rippling. “Yes,” he said, voice strained.

Brainstorm nodded, his optics wide, and reached up to remove his blast mask. “I didn’t want to push after… you know.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me,” Perceptor replied.

Rodimus arched an optic ridge at Megatron, face smug, and his voice was low and purring when he spoke. “What do you say we move this to the berth?”

Perceptor shivered, field rippling again as though he was trying to suppress any desire from showing. Megatron rolled his optics and led the scientist over to Rodimus’ berth while Rodimus towed Brainstorm along.

“I think these two should be in the middle,” Rodimus said as he pushed Brainstorm down onto his oversized and incredibly plush berth. Megatron’s berth wasn’t so large. In fact, he doubted anyone’s was. Rodimus was a hedonist. There were no two ways about it.

“Are you alright with me behind you?” Megatron asked Perceptor in an attempt to shove aside the annoyance Rodimus managed to inspire so often.

“Yes.” Perceptor pulled away, trembling visibly, but he crawled onto the berth and directly into Brainstorm’s ready embrace.

Megatron reached out to stop Rodimus, but his co-captain dodged neatly. “Come on, Megs!” Rodimus chirped as he snuggled up against Brainstorm’s back. “Don’t get all shy on us now.”

How the brat hadn’t noticed the sense of awkwardness, Megatron had no idea. Or perhaps he had and simply refused to acknowledge it? Perceptor and Brainstorm lay in the middle of the berth, their hands hesitant but touching one another. Rodimus’ hand reached around Brainstorm to tease his fingertips along transformation gaps while he grinned what was probably supposed to be a come-hither look up at Megatron.

“I am anything but shy,” Megatron said as he settled on the berth behind Perceptor. He mirrored Rodimus’ position, propping himself up on an elbow so he could see over a red shoulder, but only lightly rested his hand on the mech’s side.

“Coulda fooled me,” Rodimus shot back. “Here, lemme show you. If you follow seams, maybe even dip into them~” Brainstorm gasped, gold optics flaring. “See. You try.”

Megatron smirked. “I’ve done this a few times, you know?” He slipped his fingers under the conduit at Perceptor’s waist and stroked a cluster of wires that made the mech gasp and clutch at Brainstorm.

Rodimus flashed a grin that could convince Swindle to give him a discount and pushed his hand down between Brainstorm’s thighs. “Bet I can get Brainstorm to pop his panel first.” He rubbed Brainstorm’s array cover and the mech whined in the back of his throat.

Perceptor shivered in reaction, and Megatron replied, “I’ll take that bet.” He dipped his helm, lips brushing Perceptor’s audial. “Open for me,” he purred as his hand slipped lower. “Open for Brainstorm.”

Perceptor’s panel sprang open, his spike extending instantly. Megatron gave Rodimus a smug look as he palmed the sleek spike.

“That was so totally cheating.” Rodimus nipped at the side of Brainstorm’s helm. “Hey, Brainstorm, open those optics and look. It is a pretty spike.”

Brainstorm’s panel clicked loudly as it unlocked, then retracted. “Ooo~ He’s all slick.” Bright yellow fingers dipped down to circle Brainstorm’s valve, ignoring the equally wet spike. “You two are so easy. Why were you holding back? Look how much you want each other.”

Perceptor made a low sound, and Megatron pushed him closer to Brainstorm with his own body. Their fields were full of restrained desire while Rodimus’ filled the room with it. Megatron chuckled and let his own panel retract as he released Perceptor’s spike and dipped his fingers lower to tease the rim of his valve. He met Rodimus’ optics and smirked again as he curled his fingers around a silver thigh and lifted.

“That how you want to play?” Rodimus asked in a purr.

“You started this,” Megatron shot back. He did glance down at the two between them, but they had finally caved to desire and were locked in a deep kiss. Megatron would be surprised if either of them even heard Rodimus and him talking over them. He rocked his hips, letting the tip of his spike slide along the surface of Perceptor’s array before catching the rim of his valve.

Rodimus copied Megatron’s position, drawing Brainstorm’s leg up. “Bet I can make Brainstorm overload first.”

Megatron couldn’t help but chuckle at him. “Isn’t this supposed to be about them?”

Rodimus made a show of sliding into Brainstorm’s valve, moaning low despite the bright grin he still wore. Brainstorm’s hips twitched and a soft sound escaped him. “It is.”

“Then shouldn’t we be drawing this out?” Megatron angled himself to push just the tip of his spike into Perceptor. He bit back a moan as the first ring of calipers clenched tight and the scientist gasped out a curse.

“Don’t be a tease,” Rodimus said as he proceeded to tease Brainstorm’s anterior cluster with too-light sweeps of this fingertip.

Megatron shook his helm, mouth open to retort, but Perceptor pulled out of the kiss and snapped, “Stop flirting and frag us!”

Why _that_ made Rodimus’ face flush hot pink was beyond Megatron, and as he obeyed Perceptor and thrust home, he found he simply didn’t care. Plush mesh lining parted around his girth, snug and warm and wet.

“Like this?” he growled into Perceptor’s audial, then drew back and thrust again.

Perceptor cried out, his hands scratching at Brainstorm’s shoulders until his fingers caught against the edges of plating and held tight. Brainstorm’s optics were blown wide, the gold darkened to amber as he watched Perceptor’s face. One hand pushed down, and Rodimus was forced to squirm closer when Brainstorm shifted so he could wrap his fingers around his and Perceptor’s spikes.

Megatron nipped Perceptor’s shoulder and set the pace, firm and even, his spike gliding over nodes that snapped charge and made pleasure wash through his sensornet. Rodimus moaned, his optics bright and hips matching Megatron’s rhythm.

It was easy to sink into the sensations, and Megatron shut his optics. The sound of vents underscored gasps and moans and needy cries. Brainstorm was talking again, and Megatron forced his optics back open to look down at him, lust shimmering through his lines as he watched the mech’s lips moved against Perceptor’s. He only caught every few words, but the words didn’t matter for Megatron. Whatever was said made Perceptor writhe, his pelvis bucking into the grip of Brainstorm’s fingers while his valve clenched and twitched.

Megatron thrust faster, feeling that familiar pressure build. Rodimus had his lower lip caught between his teeth, optics squeezed shut as he pulled Brainstorm’s knee up a little higher and plunged deep. A tingling started in Megatron’s fingertips, but it was Perceptor that fell first. He shouted, back arching and helm thrown back. Megatron tucked his face into the scientist’s neck and nipped the main energon line, bringing a sharper cry from him. Brainstorm gasped, then howled into his own overload.

Megatron growled, body trembling with the effort to hold off as he lifted his optics to meet Rodimus’. His co-captain’s optics and field flared, and Megatron smirked as Rodimus was lost to his release. A deep, grinding roll of his hips, and Megatron let his own overload take him. Perceptor whimpered against Brainstorm’s helm, then for a long few minutes, no one moved or spoke.

Megatron relaxed after he gently lowered Perceptor’s leg and draped his arm over both scientists’ waists. Someone was purring, but he didn’t bother to peel his optics back open to figure out who. Warm, sated contentment bled from their mingled fields.

“You guys can all stay a bit if you want,” Rodimus said after a bit. “I’m not the frag ‘em and kick ‘em out type.”

Perceptor stirred, so Megatron carefully withdrew his spike and let it retract. “Actually, I want a wash, and I think Brainstorm and I need to have a conversation,” the scientist said.

Brainstorm squirmed his way free of Rodimus and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we really better.”

Megatron cycled his vents and sat up as well. If they weren’t staying, he sure wasn’t. “I wish you both well.”

Perceptor climbed off the berth and offered Megatron a smile. “We appreciate your help.” He tipped his helm to Rodimus too, and held a hand out to help Brainstorm up.

Megatron waved away the gratitude. “It was Rodimus’ idea.” He smirked down at his co-captain as he stood up. “Finally a good one,” he teased.

Rodimus snorted and tucked his hands under his helm, panel still shamelessly open and legs sprawled as he settled on his back. “I’m full of great ideas!”

“Full of something,” Megatron retorted. He cast Rodimus a playful salute as he led the other two toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our first appointment.”

“Yeah, don’t be late.”


	3. Megatron & Rodimus Do First Aid

Rodimus leaned in close, his hands braced on Megatron’s knees, helm tipped close to First Aid’s. “Comfy?”

First Aid trembled and squeaked before he managed a nod. Megatron lifted his aft a little to rock up into the smaller mech.

“Know I’m not your favorite,” Rodimus purred, one fingertip tracing the stretched rim of First Aid’s valve, “but I was a _Wrecker_ too.”

Megatron’s vents caught as First Aid’s valve clenched hard on his spike. He had to force himself to relax into the chair because of all things, he’d never expected this would be as hot as it was turning out to be. First Aid’s legs were spread wide, his feet hooked around Megatron’s calves. Megatron had his fingers laced through the medic’s to keep him from touching himself, Megatron, or Rodimus. It was as he’d asked for, and Rodimus had been happy to comply. Megatron had no issues either, more curious than turned on by the prospect, but it was working out rather nice and they had barely begun.

“Did you know that, Megs?” Rodimus asked, his voice still purring and low. “First Aid has a thing for Wreckers.”

First Aid’s valve clenched again, the calipers beginning to spasm and flutter along Megatron’s length. It felt amazing, and send little spirals of pleasure across his circuits.

Rodimus tipped his helm, lips ghosting along the side of First Aid’s helm. “Do you mind if he pretends you’re Roadbuster? Or…” A soft, sultry chuckle rumbled forth. “Springer?”

First Aid screamed his first overload, and Megatron rolled his hips up to help carry the mech through it while Rodimus drew back, smirking. Lust flared heavy, and the medic shook even as he came down from the high of release.

“Yeah.” Rodimus grinned and waited with his helm tilted until First Aid’s visor relit and focused on him. “Yeah, that was hot. Know how you medics are though. Never take care of yourself as good as you take care of the rest of us. We’ll take care of you though. Take care of you _real_ good.” He flashed a grin at Megatron, then ordered, “Put your hands up and lace your fingers behind Megatron’s neck, Aid.”

The medic obeyed, and Megatron moved his hands to the mech’s side, fingers teasing along the transformation seams. To start.

“Keep them there,” Rodimus said. He leaned in again, hands on Megatron’s thighs to help his balance, and pushed his face in to nibble and suck at First Aid’s neck.

Megatron enjoyed the show and the way First Aid arched and whimpered into their touches. He pushed one of his hands up the medic’s arm and tugged a hand down where he could reach it. “I’ve heard rumors,” Megatron said, and Rodimus glanced up only to smirk.

First Aid keened as Megatron sucked one of his fingers into his mouth. He knew all about a medic’s hands and pressed his tongue along the fine plates and seams. All those sensors.

“I’ve heard that medics can overload from a bit of handplay alone,” Rodimus said as he nibbled his way down First Aid’s neck to his chest. He shifted closer and brought a hand up to caress a gap in the medic’s plating.

Megatron slowly worked First Aid’s fingers, thoroughly enjoying the rippling grip of his valve. It was pleasant, not enough to risk his own overload, but enough to keep his attention. He drew the medic’s smallest finger into his mouth and pressed a fang down against the pad of it. First Aid arched with a cry, plating ringing and valve squeezing tight, but it wasn’t an overload. Not yet.

Rodimus chuckled and worked his way down. He was slower, more methodical than Megatron would have expected him capable of, and First Aid practically vibrated between them. Megatron reached up to pull First Aid’s other hand toward his mouth just as Rodimus settled on his knees and licked a line up the medic’s spike.

“Oh please,” First Aid gasped- his first words since they began.

“Like that, do ya?” Rodimus asked, then closed his mouth over the end of the medic’s spike.

Megatron growled as First Aid bucked and cried out, but Rodimus kept it slow. His helm lifted and dropped, and while Megatron couldn’t really see more than that, he certainly felt the results. First Aid’s field flared, and Megatron would swear to having felt the hard throb of a spark against his own. The already tight and flexing valve snugged down more. Megatron entertained and distracted himself from the rush of need and pressure banding around his hips by focusing on First Aid’s fingers. Each one was carefully laved, sucked, and nibbled until the medic trembled and moaned helplessly.

“Oh… oh…” First Aid panted, vents running full bore as he arched and writhed.

“Close,” Megatron rumbled. “So close. Let go. We have you.”

Rodimus purred his agreement and swallowed down the medic’s spike.

First Aid screamed. Megatron moaned as his spike was milked of his overload. He’d intended to hold a bit longer, but the release snuck up on him and bright ecstasy flooded his systems. There was another cry, but Megatron was more concerned with the medic that had suddenly gone utterly limp in his arms.

“Oh frag,” Rodimus moaned, his helm pressing against the inside Megatron’s thigh. One hand remained on the unconscious medic, but the other was busy out of Megatron’s sight for a few more strokes and another hitched moan before Rodimus tensed.

First Aid whimpered, helm lolling against Megatron’s shoulder as he slowly came to. Megatron gently lowered his arms, then rubbed and squeezed them to help ground the mech.

“Oh, Primus. That was amazing. Thank you,” First Aid said, his voice laced with static.

“No problem,” Rodimus said with a sigh of his own.

Megatron smiled and gripped First Aid’s hips. “Relax, I’ll lift you off.” It would be better than leaving a mech so much smaller than him on his spike to get sore. First Aid made a sound of agreement, and Megatron lifted him, though only far enough to retract his spike before letting the medic back down onto his thighs to relax.

“Truly. That was perfect,” First Aid said.

Megatron brushed his lips against First Aid’s helm. “Our pleasure, I assure you.”


	4. Megatron & Rodimus Do Chromedome & Rewind

“So you’re sure you’re ok with this?” Rewind asked. He’d asked when this appointment had first been set, and Megatron’s answer was the same.

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure you can hold that much mass displacement even through an overload?” Chromedome asked, concern leaking from his field.

“Yes. Overload, no matter how powerful, will not affect my size once I lock the shift into place,” Megatron replied.

“And you’re really ok with me spiking you?” Rewind added.

“Yes,” Megatron replied with a smile. Why did so many think he would be against being spiked? He was actually rather fond of it.

Rodimus clapped his hands together. “Sweet! Let’s get started.”

“Wait,” Rewind said. “One more question. Can I record this?”

“Hell yes!” Rodimus shouted the same instant Megatron snapped-

“No!”

“What do you mean no?” Rodimus whined. “It’d be so hot! We could rewatch it whenever we-”

“No,” Megatron said firmly, cutting his co-captain off. “I am not at all comfortable being recorded in _any_ way.” He looked down at Rewind. “It’s a deal breaker for me. I do not want to be recorded, not even audio, and if I am despite me telling you no right now, I will consider it a violation and press charges.”

“Whoa!” Rodimus pushed his hands against Megatron’s shoulders. “Easy, Megs. You said no, Rewind’s not going to do it. No threats needed.” He twisted around to look at a rather bright set of visors. “Right, guys?”

“R-right,” Rewind replied, one hand lifting to angle the camera upward. “We don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”

Megatron cycled his vents and shoved away the tension. “Apologies. It’s… never mind. Thank you.”

Rodimus bounced up on the tips of his feet and planted a kiss on Megatron’s cheek, then pushed him toward the berth. “Shrink then. My panel’s going to bow out if my spike pushes any harder against it.”

“How erotic,” Megatron muttered with a grin as he stepped onto the berth before folding enough of his mass away to match Rewind’s size.

“You’re so cute, I’m gonna die, Megs.” Rodimus crawled onto the berth, hands reaching for Megatron, but Megatron slapped at them.

“Knock it off.”

Chromedome chuckled as he climbed onto the berth as well. “There is something adorable about a smaller lover, isn’t there?”

“Right?” Rodimus let the other mech push him over, his panel eagerly springing open as Chromedome settled over his thighs.

“This will be fun,” Rewind said, his voice pitched to be heard by Megatron and not the other two. “Are you sure you’re ok with this?”

Megatron nodded, and he truly was. It was just Rodimus being ridiculous and the remaining jolt of distaste at the idea of being recorded. “It isn’t even the first time I’ve used my ability to interface.” He gestured Rewind to join his conjunx and Rodimus, then followed. They had come up with a rather unique configuration, and Megatron was genuinely interested in trying it. He was unlikely to be able to do much beyond receive, but that was fine.

Rodimus moaned as Chromedome lifted and sank, working himself onto the brightly decorated spike. Once he was fully seated, Rewind settled himself on Rodimus’ abdomen, lying back against his chest and allowing his mate to tease him open. Megatron sat beside the three of them on the berth to watch, though he jumped a little when Rodimus ran his fingers down his back.

“You really are cute. Sexy, but cute.” A bright smile was beamed at Megatron, and Rodimus curled his hand around to rub his fingers over a much smaller than usual panel.

Megatron shifted to allow the touch and the heat it caused to swell through his lines, optics on Chromedome and Rewind. Chromedome’s spike jutted out, looking almost too large, but clearly the two had done this before. Their fields bled need and lust, and when Rewind’s panel retracted, his spike extended and the scent of lubricant grew thicker. Megatron let his own array cover slide away.

“So sexy,” Rodimus purred, his fingers uncommonly large against the softer metal of Megatron’s array. “Slick too. You’re all cool outwardly, but you’re into this, aren’t you?”

Megatron tipped his helm around and cast a smirk at Rodimus. “I’m ‘into it’ every time. I wouldn’t waste my time or anyone else’s if the desire wasn’t real.”

“Oh, Domey!” Rewind cried, and both Megatron and Rodimus turned their attention to the other mechs. Chromedome slowly pulled Rewind onto his spike, rocking forward and making Rodimus gasp as his spike was stroked by the movement.

Chromedome panted, leaning over Rewind and Rodimus with his visor dim for a moment. “Good?”

“So good,” Rewind whispered.

“Megs,” Rodimus said and tugged at Megatron’s arm. “Better hop on. Domey there’s rippling already.”

Megatron pushed himself to his feet and stepped over so he could swing his leg across Rodimus’ middle and Rewind’s hips. Chromedome helped brace him until he had settled himself over Rewind’s spike.

“Ready?” Megatron purred, then sank down without waiting for a reply. His valve clenched and a new rush of fire coursed his lines.

Rewind keened, his neck arching back. He cursed with a gasp, hands finding Megatron’s waist to grip tight and thrust up. “Oh, Primus yes.”

Megatron shivered and leaned back against Chromedome’s chest, then worked his feet onto the edge of Rodimus’ waist to help balance him. He was right in that he could barely move in this position, but it was certainly pleasant enough. He focused on working the calipers in his valve as Chromedome began to move.

It was slow and rolling at first, but quickly grew to a grinding, rocking pace that pushed Rewind up Rodimus’ chest. Rodimus moaned through a laugh and braced the smaller mech with a hand on his shoulder. His other roamed freely, touching Rewind, Chromedome, and then curling around Megatron’s waist. A broad yellow thumb settled into place on Megatron’s array and rubbed back and forth over his anterior cluster, the flat space slick from his and Rewind’s lubricants. Need twisted into a knot low in his belly, and he tried to roll his hips for more contact.

“I want all three of you screaming,” Rodimus purred as he rubbed harder, his optics on Megatron’s face.

Megatron moaned, his hands clutching at Rewind as the charge swelled. It was difficult to focus, and his optics fell shut as a hard wave of pleasure swept over his sensornet. Rewind cried out with every jolting thrust, and Megatron’s world was made of motion. A hand wrapped around his chest, and Chromedome pressed harder against his back as he leaned forward.

“Close,” the mech panted. “Oh frag…”

“Yes…” Rodimus hissed.

Rewind spasmed and wailed, heat filling Megatron’s valve and driving him that last bit he needed to fall over the edge as well. He cried out. A single sharp burst of sound before the hot knot of ecstasy smoothed out into a wave of bliss. Megatron moaned and slumped forward, listening as first Chromedome, then Rodimus -cursing and grunting as he thrust up under their combined weights- overloaded as well.

Chromedome was the first to move. His vents heaved, but he was careful as he pulled slowly from Rewind, then flopped to the side. Megatron dragged himself off Rewind’s spike and let himself slide to the berth on the other side of Rodimus, leaving space for Rewind to join his mate.

Megatron glanced up at Rodimus, catching those bright blue optics watching him. Then a large hand swept over Megatron’s back and his co-captain gave him a crooked, blissed-out grin then let his helm drop back.

“Thank you,” Rewind said once his respiration had calmed. “Truly.”

Megatron chuckled tiredly. “You’re quite welcome.”


	5. Megatron & Rodimus Do Rung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BDSM and D/s themes here!

Megatron knelt on the floor in the middle of Rung’s office, the lights dim, and the small mech watching him and Rodimus for a moment before stepping toward Megatron.

“Tell me your word,” Rung commanded gently, his hand light on Megatron’s helm.

“Stop,” Megatron replied, his voice a low rumble as that hand caressed down and forward.

“Stop means stop,” Rung said as he stroked his fingers down Megatron’s cheek. “No means no.” He stepped aside to stand in front of Rodimus, and Megatron had to fight down a grin.

Rodimus was in the same position as Megatron, aft on his heels, hands on his thighs, but he was anything but still. His field bled arousal and his plating flared and twitched. His vents ran faster, optics a deeper blue than usual.

“The same for you, Rodimus,” Rung said. “Stop means stop. No means no.”

“Not gonna stop,” Rodimus said, voice breathless.

Rung frowned lightly. “I need to trust that you will speak up if you need to. Stop means stop. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Rodimus squirmed. “And no means no, and I can say that if I need to. I got it.”

Megatron bit his lip against a laugh. Oh he was certainly revved and eager himself. Anticipation hummed through his spark and his array prickled with arousal. But he trusted Rung. He was ready for this, but Rodimus could barely contain himself.

“Hm. I think you’ll need a little help.” Rung turned away, and Megatron took the opportunity to smirk at Rodimus. “These should do,” Rung said as he returned with restraints in his hands. Megatron watched with interest as he circled around behind Rodimus. “Lean forward so you are on your hands and knees.”

Rodimus obeyed, helm twisting to peek over his shoulder, then ducking his helm to look under his body when he couldn’t see Rung properly. Megatron shook his helm. The silly glitch. Though his wriggling didn’t seem to bother Rung. A spreader bar was clamped into place at Rodimus’ knees, then another between his ankles, forcing his lower legs to remain parallel.

“Up on your knees, Rodimus,” Rung ordered. Rodimus obeyed, wobbling a little as he found his balance. “Very good. Now I want your hands behind your back.” Another set of bars were locked into place, one at Rodimus’ wrists, the other at his elbows. A light chain jangled as Rung clamped it to the center of the elbow bar. “Lean back just a little, Rodimus.”

Megatron grinned as he watched. The other end of the chain had a small, equally delicate hook which Rung notched around the ankle bar. Rodimus’ back arched, his weight pulled back. Thigh, abdominal, and thoracic muscle cables and actuators were all engaged to keep him in that position, and it would _not_ be comfortable to hold that for long. Megatron could already see Rodimus trembling.

“Now, Rodimus,” Rung said as he walked back around to stand in front of the bound mech. “The chain is very light. If you tug forward, it will snap.” He paused, gaze on Rodimus’ over-bright optics. “I will be _very_ displeased if you break my pretty chain. Understand?”

“Yes,” Rodimus gasped.

“The bottom of the chain is merely hooked to the bar, so if you lean too far back, it will come loose,” Rung explained. “No reward for you if the hook slips. Understand?”

Rodimus whined. “Yes.” He shifted a little, but the chain really didn’t leave him any slack.

“Open your panel, Rodimus,” Rung ordered.

Rodimus’ panel snapped open, his spike jutting free before Rung even finished speaking the words. It gleamed in lubricant, and a pearl of transfluid beaded at the tip. Megatron watched as is slowly began to roll down the underside of the highly decorated spike.

“You are not to speak, Rodimus, _unless_ it is to tell me to stop. Understand?”

Rodimus opened his mouth, but quickly snapped it shut and nodded.

Rung smiled and reached out to stroke Rodimus’ cheek. “Very good.”

Megatron quickly wiped the glee from his face as Rung turned away from Rodimus. A comfortable chair was pulled closer to the both of them, and Rung sat and draped one leg over the arm before beckoning Megatron forward.

“I know you are not comfortable being bound, so I want you to put your hands behind your back and keep them there,” Rung said as Megatron crawled toward him on his hands and knees.

Megatron sat on his heels again and did as told, hands behind his back and gripping the opposite wrist.

“Good,” Rung crooned. He settled into the chair better, optics on Megatron’s face. “Now I want you to help me get my panel open. You may only use your mouth.” Rodimus whined, and Megatron tipped his helm to give him a smug look, but Rung caught his chin and gently turned his face back toward him. “Now, now. Be nice.”

“Yes, sir,” Megatron replied, letting his voice rumble from deep in his chest. He leaned in, hands still clasped behind his back, and nuzzled Rung’s array cover. The mech had incredible control if the heat radiating off his panel was any indication of how turned on he was. Megatron licked over the panel, then traced the seams with the tip of his tongue.

“Tip your helm just to your right, Megatron. We want Rodimus to be able to see.”

Rodimus whimpered as Megatron obeyed, and since Rung couldn’t see his mouth just then, grinned. Tormenting Rodimus was fun, and Megatron was perfectly happy to give the mech a show. He wasn’t having much success with Rung’s panel yet, however, so he turned to the exposed lines of Rung’s thigh-pelvis joint. Sensitive cables and seldom touched lines were licked and sucked. Megatron exhaled heated air over the delicate components -it was still from his mouth after all- and heard Rung’s vents catch. One long, slow lick over the panel finally got it to retract, and Megatron paused, looking up for permission.

“Valve first,” Rung said and his hand nudged Megatron’s helm to the side. “Give Rodimus a nice show.”

Megatron’s tongue had barely flicked out to taste the sweet lubricant gleaming on the rim of Rung’s valve when Rodimus cursed.

Rung’s hand settled on the back of Megatron’s helm with gentle pressure. “Something to say, Rodimus?”

Megatron circled the valve again, helm tilted just so, so he could see Rodimus from the corner of one optic. The mech had a puddle of lubricant under him, and he visibly shook.

“Rodimus?” Rung called again, but Rodimus just shook his helm. “Then open your optics and watch.”

Megatron thrust his tongue into Rung’s valve, making the smaller mech gasp. He plunged it in and out, breaking the rhythm now and then to circle the rim and tease the first ring of nodes and anterior cluster before delving back in. Rodimus keened and Rung moaned, whispering encouragement to Megatron as he got closer to his release.

“Mmn… Enough,” Rung said and pushed at Megatron’s helm.

Megatron gave a soft, parting swipe of his tongue, then sat back on his heels again.

“Scoot back and open your panel,” Rung ordered with a smile. “In fact, lie back, your legs open and array facing toward Rodimus. You may also put your hands over your helm.”

Megatron obeyed, his spike pushing free almost as eagerly as Rodimus’ had, and a low moan escaped as Rung straddled his lap and rubbed his array along the length. Slick heat pressed down against the tip, and Megatron fought to keep from thrusting up. He knotted his fingers together to keep from reaching for the smaller mech to help guide him. Rung was _small_ , but he rolled his hips and rocked up and down slowly, taking more of Megatron each time he pressed himself down.

Rodimus moaned, his fans roaring, and Megatron grinned as he stared up at Rung. “He’s going to blow a few relays.”

“Shh…” Rung smiled though, and worked himself down until Megatron felt the tip of his spike press against the end of the mech’s valve. “Oh my…” Dark blue optics peered down at Megatron. “No overloading until I tell you to.”

“Yes, sir,” Megatron replied.

Rodimus keened again, but was summarily ignored as Rung wound his hips in tight circles. Megatron lay passive, letting his body be used as the mech worked himself toward his overload. Fire licked at his lines, and there was a hot, hard knot swelling at the base of his spike, but Megatron held tight to his control. Rung knew what he was doing and wouldn’t leave either of them unsatisfied. Though Rodimus might not know that. Rung blocked Megatron’s view, but Rodimus was making a fair amount of noise. Moaning and whimpering, keening high sounds while his vents tried and failed to draw in cooling air.

“Oh! _Oh_!” Rung cried, his fingers gripping hard to Megatron’s chest plating. “Now!” he gasped.

Megatron growled at the command as the snug little valve rolled along the length of his spike. He bucked up, catching himself just before he would have grabbed Rung and slapping his hands back to the floor. Rung cried out again, hips meeting every thrust, and Megatron moaned as heat rose up along his spike to erupt in hot spurts deep in the little valve. Rung clenched and curled forward in another overload, then fell forward onto Megatron’s chest to pant.

Rodimus sobbed in gasping moans of his own, and Megatron lifted his helm enough to see past Rung in time to watch an arc of transfluid pulse from Rodimus’ spike.

“Rodimus needs better training,” Megatron said with a smirk.

Rung nipped the edge of his plating. “Be nice,” he reminded, then dragged himself off Megatron to tend to Rodimus. “Rodimus?”

“Oh frag! That was so hot!” Rodimus squirmed. “Unhook me, this is really starting to hurt.”

Megatron sat up and snickered as Rung moved to unbind his co-captain. “Overloading untouched? It must have been a good show.”

Rodimus beamed a dopey smile at him. “Pit yeah. Oh ow,” he groaned and pulled his arms forward to rub at his wrists. Rung unlocked the leg bars, then pushed them aside before standing behind Rodimus to begin massaging his shoulder joints.

“I had no idea that would happen,” Rung said, fingers pushing into the gaps to stroke over tight cabling.

Megatron folded his legs in and leaned forward with a contented sigh of his own. “Leave it to Rodimus. If there’s a way to make a huge mess, he’ll find it.”

“Hey!”

“Be _nice_ ,” Rung said, but he was grinning too.


	6. Megatron & Rodimus Do Minimus Ambus

Rodimus bounced over to his door when the chime sounded and opened it to invite in Minimus Ambus. Megatron lounged on the sofa, curious optics on the small mech. Tiny, really. He would be size shifting again, but given the way Magnus had struggled to even voice the request it would be worth it. Megatron and Rodimus were doing this for their crew after all, and Minimus was often lost behind Ultra Magnus. Or _in_ him, rather. Magnus had expressed concern since this would be his second turn, but Megatron agreed before even Rodimus this time.

“Good evening,” Minimus greeted, his voice different without the Magnus armor.

“Hi ya… uh… Hm.” Rodimus tapped his lips with a finger. “I need to come up with a nickname for you in this form. Mini doesn’t have the right ring to it.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Minimus said, still hovering just inside the door.

“You know that won’t stop him,” Megatron said with a commiserating smile. He was still ‘Megs’ after all, and had Magnus shown up instead of Minimus, he would be ‘Mags’.

“Hope springs eternal,” Minimus replied with a smile of his own.

“You two are boring. ‘Use my full name’,” Rodimus mocked as he crossed the room to his berth and flopped onto his back. “Nicknames denote friendly intimacy.”

“Where did he learn a word like ‘denote’?” Minimus asked as Megatron rose from the sofa.

Megatron shrugged and shifted down until he was the same height as Minimus. “Not from me. Even if I said it, he doesn’t listen to me.”

“Oh, holy Primus!” Rodimus squealed, sitting up on the berth and clutching his hands together. “You two are the cutest!”

“And you’re the most ridiculous,” Megatron shot back as he reached the berth. He planted his hands on the edge to boost himself up, but Rodimus grabbed him and lifted.

“Rodimus,” Minimus chided. “That is unwelcome behavior.”

“Megs doesn’t mind. Do ya?” Rodimus preceded to cuddle Megatron close and purred. “I’m so fragging hot and yet my spark’s about to implode from the impossible amounts of adorable coming off of you.” Minimus was caught up too, and Megatron found himself pressed to the green mech as Rodimus hugged them both.

“I’m sorry. Rung tried to train him, but it just didn’t work out.” Megatron grinned as Minimus chuckled, but he wasn’t comfortable crushed in Rodimus’ arms. “Alright! Enough.” He pushed at Rodimus’ chest until he and Minimus were set down on the berth in front of Rodimus.

“Fussy,” Rodimus snickered, hands running over the both of them. “So. You two ready? How ya want me?”

“Thoughts?” Megatron asked Minimus.

Minimus nodded. “Yes. As I suggested before, I think we should both take him together, and honestly, perhaps Rodimus on his back would be easiest? Knees up?”

Megatron considered, then nodded. “If that doesn’t work well, we can always change the position.”

“I could ride you both?” Rodimus suggested.

“No,” Megatron and Minimus said as one.

Minimus laughed. “You’re too large to me in this form to feel comfortable with all your weight over us like that.”

Rodimus reached out and let his fingers slide over Minimus’ shoulder, arm, then down his leg. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said softly. “But that’s ok. We can try with me on my back first. Could maybe try on my knees too if you guys don’t have enough room.” He flashed them one of those bright smiles, then flopped back and retracted his panel. “Now come and get it before I combust.”

Minimus gave a fond shake of his helm as they were nearly overwhelmed by the heavy scent of lubricant. “Knees up.”

Rodimus pulled his knees up and spread them wide instantly, and Megatron snickered. “He’s not eager is he?” Though he retracted his own panel to release his rather pinched spike. There was always something so alluring about these sessions. It took nothing to rev Megatron either. Not that he would admit it.

Minimus allowed his panel to slide away as well and together, they settled between Rodimus’ legs.

“You two are killing me,” Rodimus whined.

“Hush.” Minimus reached out and stroked his hand over Rodimus’ array, and Megatron joined him, teasing the valve rim with his fingers. “This might be a bit complex,” Minimus added.

“Nonsense,” Megatron replied, his tone even and casual to drive Rodimus on. He nudged at Rodimus’ hip. “Shift just a bit to your side.” Rodimus obeyed, and Megatron parked his aft on the inside of his thigh. “Now you just straddle my leg, and once we tilt over, our spikes should line up fine with his valve.”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Rodimus accused as he reached a hand down to rub at his array.

Minimus knocked the yellow hand away and pulled himself into Megatron’s lap. “And over?” he asked with a smile.

In answer, Megatron tilted sideways so he and Minimus rested over Rodimus’ pelvis. It _was_ a bit complicated, but their spikes were in the right place and close enough together for Megatron to catch them both in one hand to guide them in.

“Frag me,” Rodimus whined, and it wasn’t clear whether he was swearing or begging.

Minimus grinned. “This is rather fun.” He gripped Megatron’s waist with one hand and Rodimus’ chest plating with the other.

Megatron copied the grip on Rodimus and braced his foot against a flare on the co-captain’s knee. Together they pull-pushed, and Megatron’s moan was lost under Rodimus’ sharp cry as they thrust into his valve.

“Hurt?” Minimus asked.

“No! Hard. More! Now! Now please!” Rodimus squirmed, but then his hands reach down and cupped under both Megatron’s and Minimus’ afts. He pulled and they were suddenly no longer in control.

Megatron absolutely did not yelp as his foot slipped and his spike was squeezed against Minimus’. Rodimus pushed and pulled them, moaning and gasping and cursing. Minimus clutched at Megatron, laughing through a moan of his own. Megatron offered a shrug, then used the hand still clinging to Rodimus’ plating to pull himself harder into each thrust.

“Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Like that! Oh frag!”

Megatron looked back at Minimus, but before he could say anything, his mouth was taken in a deep kiss. That only ramped up the charge more, and he very quickly found himself pulling away so he could focus on resisting the urge to let the overload consume him already. It was too fast, but Rodimus’ valve was hot and slick, and Minimus’ spike a firm, unique pressure gliding against Megatron’s own.

“I… think…” Minimus panted only minutes later, then his hand tightened on Megatron’s shoulder, and he curled in and shouted his release.

Thick warmth pooled over Megatron’s spike and when Rodimus’ valve spasmed and squeezed down tight, he was launched into overload as well. Sensation buzzed and tingled over his frame as the hard edge of bliss melted to a soft, dizzy afterglow.

Rodimus moaned and went utterly limp, his hands sliding up to rest on Minimus and Megatron’s backs. “That was fragging amazing.”

Minimus drew back and pushed up to his knees, hand out to help Megatron as well. “Mind if I stay a little? I’m not at all certain my legs will work properly yet.”

“Pits yeah, you can stay!” Rodimus caught both of them up and dragged them up to drape over either side of his chest. A kiss was dropped to Minimus’ helm, then Megatron’s in turn. “Uhhn… Seriously. Amazing.”

“It was,” Minimus agreed with a smile aimed at Megatron. “Thank you, both.”

“So welcome,” Rodimus replied, then promptly dropped into recharge.


	7. Megatron & Rodimus Do Drift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spark play and energy constriction here.

Megatron stopped in the doorway, optic ridge arching at the sight before him.

“Hey, Megs!” Rodimus called out cheerfully. “You were late, so we got started without you.”

“I see that,” Megatron said and stepped into Rodimus’ quarters so the door could shut. The room smelled of ozone and interfacing. No surprise there as both of their arrays were soaked in lubricant. Rodimus had planted his aft in a chair facing the door- better to be seen of course- and Drift was in his lap, impaled on that colorful spike of his.

“You missed Drift’s first one,” Rodimus said, thrusting up a little harder to bounce Drift, “ but if you hurry up, you can help with the second.”

“Oh, can I?” Megatron asked, his optics on Drift. Ultimately, it was up to him, not Megatron or Rodimus.

Drift whimpered and nodded. “Please!”

Megatron smirked and stepped closer before kneeling on the floor between Rodimus’ spread knees. Drift’s legs were outside the co-captain’s, leaving his array completely exposed. “Open for me,” Megatron purred.

“I don’t think he can get more open,” Rodimus said with a snicker. He reached down with one hand to tease the smooth space between Drift’s stretched valve rim and his spike. Drift gasped and jerked as that anterior cluster was toyed with.

“He knows what I mean.” Megatron pushed his two fingers up the center seam of Drift’s chest. “Don’t you?”

“Primus,” Drift gasped. His armor locks clicked loud as he dropped his helm back to Rodimus’ shoulder.

“Frag me,” Rodimus said, slowing his thrusts to just a slight rock and grind as Drift’s plating and spark protections retracted one by one until his spark was completely bared. “Drift? You ok with this?”

“Yessss…” Drift’s spark flickered in fast pulses, his field unrestrained lust. “Been forever.”

“This is a kink I didn’t know about,” Rodimus said, then flashed a grin down at Megatron. “Show me!”

Megatron knelt up and wrapped one arm around both their waists. The other hand went into Drift’s open chest to ghost a touch along the edge of his spark crystal. “Have you never played with another’s spark?” he asked.

“No.” Rodimus shook his helm, then did his best to see over Drift’s shoulder while continuing to roll his hips. “Frag. His valve’s all over the place. You gonna overload just from the thought of this?”

“No, he won’t,” Megatron growled and watched Drift shudder in response. “Not until he begs for permission and is granted it.”

“Primus!”

“Primus can’t help you now,” Megatron said, letting his voice rumble darkly as he leaned in closer so the vibrations would roll over Drift’s spark. Drift arched and cried out, field lashing at Megatron. Megatron licked along the edge of the crystal, then dipped his fingertips into the spark’s corona to swirl through the energy.

“I need to try this,” Rodimus said.

Megatron stopped Rodimus’ reaching hand and drew his face back so he could meet the co-captain’s optics. “I need you to listen very carefully.”

“Yeah, I know. Sparks. Gotta be careful.”

“No,” Megatron said, his fingers still moving, stirring, and Drift still shaking and gasping. “I’ll _show_ you how to do it right some other time, but you will _not_ attempt this on anyone, not even yourself, until I say you may. One misstep could kill.”

Drift moaned, his plating chiming against Rodimus’.

Megatron smirked and pushed his fingers deeper into the white mech’s spark. “Which is the draw for our dear Drift. Isn’t it, Drift?”

“More! Do… do it!” Drift writhed, restless and needy, and Megatron gave Rodimus a last stern look before focusing on Drift.

“Hungry, desperate little thing,” Megatron murmured, fingers gliding from the spark, over the bottom edge of the crystal, then pushing into sensitive internal components. “Keep moving, Rodimus.”

Rodimus rocked his pelvis up, spike sliding in and out in short but deep-seated strokes, his optics bright and interested.

“Ah. Here it is.” Megatron grasped the main energy conduit to Drift’s spark between his thumb and forefinger, then rubbed up and down just to hear Drift howl. He gave a soft, testing squeeze, and Drift keened. “There’s a different sweet zone on each mech,” Megatron said to Rodimus. “You have to start feather light, feel for it. Not enough pressure when you finally restrict the flow, and it will just be painful. Tender. Too much, and their spark might gutter.”

A glance up showed wide blue optics looking uncertain for the first time ever. Megatron smirked and slid his thumb up Drift’s conduit before squeezing again, this time with firm, constant pressure. Drift gasped, whole frame spasming. His optics stared up, sightless and bright, mouth open.

“Please! Oh, frag, Megatron! _Please_!” Drift pleaded, his voice strained and high.

“Always so beautiful in ecstasy, Drift,” Megatron purred. Drift’s spark strobed, his field became tense and vibrating. “When I say to,” Megatron said to Rodimus, “take him as hard as you can.” He counted, optics locked on Drift’s spark. Megatron waited a moment longer, then let go. “Now,” he growled.

Drift screamed, his optics blazing white, and Rodimus thrust hard and fast. Megatron chuckled as he dodged an arc of transfluid, then wrapped his hand around Drift’s spike to help drag out the overload. Rodimus cried out, the sound nearly lost under the sounds Drift still made. He thrashed, sobbing, hands tight to Rodimus’ wrists until he went limp, collapsing against Rodimus in a loose-limbed sprawl.

“Oh Primus! Did we kill him?”

Megatron caught Rodimus’ hand before he could get it pinched in Drift’s plating as it closed. “He’s fine. Just needs to reset. Here.” He stood and reached down to gently lift Drift off Rodimus’ lap, then carried him to the berth.

“Frag me. That was _intense_ ,” Rodimus said as he limped over to the berth and sprawled face down on Drift’s far side. “And uh… yeah,” he said, twisting his helm to look at Megatron. “I won’t be doing that without some coaching first. Holy slag!”

“Mmn… s’good though,” Drift mumbled. He rolled to his side and burrowed in against Megatron. “Uhnnn…”

Megatron chuckled. “Been a while?”

“Las’ time you did it ta me,” Drift slurred, then dropped back into recharge.

“Wow.” Rodimus pushed himself up and crawled over to drape along Drift’s back. “So, got a serious history, huh?”

Megatron looked over Drift’s helm at the odd tone in Rodimus’ voice, but he wasn’t given a chance to ask about it.

The lights shut off, and Rodimus said, “Night, Megs.”

Megatron frowned into the darkness, but then shook it off. Rodimus was odd on the best of days. “Good night.”


	8. Megatron & Rodimus Were Supposed To Do Cyclonus & Tailgate But Ended Up Just Doing Each Other

Megatron snorted a laugh as one small white hand planted in the middle of his face and pushed. He could take a hint, and it seemed that Tailgate had Cyclonus well in hand now. Megatron let Rodimus tug him toward the second berth but watched the two. Tailgate straddled one of Cyclonus’ thighs, small and chubby spike rocking in and out of a slick valve as Cyclonus lay on his side. The warrior was quiet as in all things, but his optics glowed like coals and were locked on Tailgate’s visor. They were lost in one another, just as Tailgate hoped when he approached Rodimus to help him the way they had helped Brainstorm and Perceptor.

“We should leave them,” Megatron murmured once he was able to tear his gaze off the two. They made a fine picture, and he glanced back to enjoy the view. His circuits were heated, but it felt like intrusion, and Megatron pulled his gaze away and faced Rodimus.

“Nah. Can’t open the door now.” Rodimus took another step back, then flung himself onto the berth, yanking Megatron down with him. To pull off their little stunt, Rodimus and Tailgate had decided they would do this in the minibot’s shared quarters.

Megatron caught himself before he crushed his co-captain, but that only allowed Rodimus the chance to dig all too knowing and clever fingers into his transformation seams.

“We can just ignore them,” Rodimus murmured, then he lifted his helm and kissed Megatron, warm, lithe tongue stroking out.

Megatron tried to pull away, but Rodimus’ hands tightened on him, his field flaring before being reined back in. “Rodimus?” Megatron asked, a curious frown on his face.

“Could just ‘face me,” Rodimus whispered, helm lifting so he could nip at Megatron’s lower lip. “Wouldn’t be horrible.” Something rippled through Rodimus’ field, there and gone. “Would it?”

Megatron tipped his helm, a shiver working down his back at a particularly lusty cry from Tailgate. “No,” he said. “I don’t imagine it will be horrible at all.”

“Might as well take something for ourselves out of this,” Rodimus said with a teasing lilt to his tone. His fingers mapped all the sensitive places on Megatron’s frame. He’d clearly been paying attention.

“As if we haven’t,” Megatron replied and let his panel retract. Pleasure hummed across his sensornet as his spike extended to rub against Rodimus’ array. The mech was ever eager.

“I don’t know,” Rodimus said as he wound his arms around Megatron’s shoulders. “Percy got Brainstorm.” He tipped his helm to the side and grinned, then turned back to Megatron with a shrug. “Tailgate got Cyclonus.”

It was the shrug that clued Megatron in. For a moment, he held himself over Rodimus, trying to decide if that was what the mech really meant, and if Megatron wanted to risk such a thing.

“Don’t think,” Rodimus said with a laugh. “Pits, I can see the gears spinning.” He tugged at Megatron, hips rolling up. “’Face me. Figure out the rest later.”

Later would be soon enough, and Megatron pushed down, spike sliding over Rodimus’ array until the tip caught at the rim of his valve. He sank in slowly, optics holding the bright blue under him. Rodimus whimpered, his fingers biting into the plating of Megatron’s shoulders.

“Slow this time,” Megatron said as he drew out almost all the way before pushing back in just as slowly.

Surprisingly, Rodimus didn’t argue or try to urge him into going faster. They rocked together, gazes locked. Heat poured through Megatron, and when he couldn’t possibly keep his optics open any longer, he let Rodimus pull him down into a searing kiss.

When had this happened? _How_ had this happened? He was _Megatron_. Mechs didn’t expect or want slow, lingering, seductive interface sessions with him. But Rodimus clung, met every thrust, and moaned so sweetly into every kiss. His field hinted at even more, but-

_Don’t think_ , Rodimus had said, and so Megatron shoved thoughts aside and focused on the feel of a hot valve, slick and snug, and the equally warm lover writhing under him. Calipers clenched in even as the smooth micromesh lining spread around his spike. Their pace picked up as they strained against one another, both trying to hold out longer while driving the other higher. Their fields twined, and Rodimus whimpered.

“Megs…” For once the short version of his name didn’t annoy Megatron. “I need…”

He was close, Megatron could feel it in the way Rodimus’ valve rippled and clenched. He ground in to rub their arrays together with each thick plunge, teeth gritted as that molten knot of lust swelled deep in his belly.

“Megatron!” Rodimus cried, then threw his helm back and screamed his overload.

Megatron groaned and buried his face in Rodimus’ neck, thrusting deep and holding there to let the squeeze and ripple of Rodimus’ valve milk his release from him. Bliss soaked into every line, stole his mind and narrowed the universe to the soft, ecstatic sobs next to his audial. Megatron melted over Rodimus, spike buried deep and aftershocks making him shiver.

For a long few minutes, nothing was heard but the fast cycling of vents, then-

“I think that might’ve been hotter than us,” Tailgate said, startling both Megatron and Rodimus. “Almost,” the minibot added. “We were really hot too. Nice though. Wow.” He tipped his helm to look up at Cyclonus. “Round two?”

“Perhaps in a little bit,” Cyclonus said, then cast Megatron a _look_.

Megatron got the message loud and clear and dragged himself off Rodimus, though getting off the berth was a bit of a chore. His limbs felt leaden, and Rodimus was sprawled, optics dim. “Rodimus. Let’s go wash up.” He tugged at a yellow hand, and couldn’t help but grin as Tailgate giggled.

“I’d suggest carrying him, but you do not look very steady yourself,” Cyclonus said, something approaching a smirk on his face.

Megatron took that as a challenge and scooped Rodimus up into his arms. “I enjoyed our time together,” he said, directing the words at Tailgate and Cyclonus. “Have a pleasant evening.”

“Please don’t drop me,” Rodimus said with a groan, though he made no move to hold on or assist Megatron with his weight.

Megatron shook his helm, said good night once more, and made his way to Rodimus’ room. Then he did drop him, right on the berth. “You and I need to talk,” he said, leaning over his co-captain. “No more ‘facing until we do.”

Rodimus reached up and dragged Megatron down once again. The kiss was nothing more than a sleepy brush of warm lips. “Tomorrow. Promise.”

Tomorrow for a certainty. Megatron got comfortable and let Rodimus snuggle in against his side.


End file.
